


Not-A-Pack Pack

by Phantoms_Echo



Series: Accidentally An Alpha [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Pack Acquisiton, Accidental Werewolf Acquisition, Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author can't remember canon timeline, Comedy, Complete, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, He Just Doesn't Know It Yet, Human Alpha Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Mom Stiles Stilinski, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski's Witty Naration, Stiles is learning as he goes, That he does know, Timeline What Timeline, Werewolf Culture, because Author's memory is terrible, because author says so, so timeline is whatever author decides it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29253603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantoms_Echo/pseuds/Phantoms_Echo
Summary: Stiles scratched the back of his head and wondered just when he had started collecting werewolves and why they seemed to likehim. Then he closed the door and turned to the kitchen. Erica’s cheer rang out from the living room, all the way across the house.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Pre-Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski - Relationship, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Series: Accidentally An Alpha [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2148063
Comments: 28
Kudos: 555





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or its characters, only the idea for this fic.
> 
> PS - There's about a million-and-one Alpha!Stiles fics and a million-and-one Spark!Stiles fic. I have decided to not have any new ideas and just dump this fic (and series) here for your enjoyment.
> 
>  **Please note!** I am new to the fandom, so my characterization might be a little OOC. Apologies in advance, but as this is the only fic/series I will be dumping into Teen Wolf, I don't think anyone's going to care too much.
> 
> I think that covers all the major bits. Next Update is Feb. 12 and the last will be Feb. 19, for those who want to keep track.
> 
> With that out of the way, please enjoy! :)

“Scott! I’m telling you, you need a pack!” Stiles yelled as he followed his friend out to the school parking lot.

Yeah, not the most subtle of things to yell across such a public place, but if the public hasn’t figured out there are supernatural threats running around their local video rental, he figures something like this won’t register.

“At the very _least_ , it means you’ll have back-up when whatever that _thing_ was in the garage comes back! So that you won’t end up —oh, I don’t know! — bleeding out, missing an organ, or with possible _brain damage_?!” Stiles threw his hands up in emphasis. “Or, hey just throwing this out there, treading water with a guy who hates you as an extra from Predator stares at you both like you’re a five-course meal!”

“I don’t want to!” Scott hissed as he stomped over to his bike. “Especially not if it’s _Derek’s_ pack.”

“What’s wrong with Derek’s pack?” Stiles asked.

Scott just glowered at him.

Right, yeah, Stiles knew the answer to that.

“Look, I know you aren’t on the _friendliest_ of terms, but come on! It’s better than you or me being caught on our own!” he argued. “You didn’t seem to have any protests against going to him for help when you first got Bit. So just… get back in that same mindset!”

“That was back when I thought I had a chance of changing _back_ ,” Scott said morosely and —aw, _no_. He was doing the ‘sad puppy’ look now. “I don’t think that’s a mindset I should go back to.”

And yeah, Stiles kind of agreed. “Okay, no, you’re right, but _still_ —!”

“Do I have to be part of Derek’s pack?” Scott asked, looking up from below his bangs. Seriously, he had to get those cut. “Can’t we just… keep going as we are? You and me against the world?”

“Scott, there are so many things wrong with that that I can’t even _list_ them all! For starters, you aren’t an Alpha and I can’t be! I can’t keep you focused on nights of the full moon, but Derek can, and—!” Stiles tried to explain the very _real_ reasons going on as a pack of two _would not work_ , then he made the mistake of looking to Scott.

Scott, who had his puppy-dog eyes out and turned to max.

Yeah, Stiles had lost this before it had even begun.

“Okay, fine!” Stiles threw his hands up in the air. “We can stay a pack of two!”

“Yes!” Scott fist-pumped, as if this was some kind of victory to celebrate.

“Good-bye normal life,” Stiles grumbled. “Hello, brain damage.”

* * * * *

With the decision of remaining a pack of two, Stiles decided that he should probably be able to, you know, _provide Scott backup_ when he needed it. Being the human half of their pack, he would have to get creative with his methods, if he didn’t want to take the Bite (which he didn’t, even if it would come with so many visible benefits. Becoming a werewolf wouldn’t work in the grand scheme of things, not if he wanted to hold Scott back on the full moon. Couldn’t do that if he was also moon-drunk.)

Luckily, there was another path open to him.

Unluckily, it meant he needed to convince Deaton to be his mentor.

It was a stretch, trying to juggle that and school and Derek’s pack and tracking down the lizard thing before _they_ could, but somehow, Stiles handled it all and _still_ managed to be his perfectly diplomatic self and argue his way into Deaton taking him on.

(It may have come at the cost of being another intern who worked for free, but that’s neither here nor there.)

So now he had access to Deaton’s books of herbs and runes and his knowledge of other magical things. Scott had managed to get Allison to sneakily steal her family’s bestiary, so they had _that_ covered too! Maybe this whole being-a-pack-of-two thing wouldn’t be so bad!

He thought that, right up to the point he found himself chilling on the floor of the police station next to Derek and several dead deputies while Matt shot Scott in front of Scott’s mom, then tried to kill Allison after hunters broke in to join the party.

Unfortunately, they only had Deaton and his horse tranquilizers.

Yeah, this whole ‘pack of two’ thing was _really_ working out for them.

And it turned out that Stiles was in a _perfect_ place to overhear the whole Scott-scheming-with-Gerard thing and _what the hell, man_?! Scott was the one that wanted to be a pack of two! The least he could do was keep Stiles in the loop! Did he not know how much they could have _used_ Gerard, if Scott had bothered telling Stiles anything? At the very least, Stiles would have kept Scott from being _blackmailed_ , which he so obviously was.

By the end of the night, everything was a disaster.

Matt was dead. Scott’s mom was avoiding him. Allison was avoiding him. Stiles’ dad was avoiding _Stiles_. Derek and his pack were missing and really, the only upside was that Jackson was still alive.

(And Stiles wasn’t even sure if that could be considered an ‘upside’.)

Stiles felt like an utter _waste of space_ for how helpful he was in that last fight. Still, he couldn’t help but feel both guilty and relieved that he and his dad were doing okay. His dad was the only person he had left besides Scott. He had almost lost them both.

(The way things were going, he still might.)

What he would really like to do, was rewind time. Rewind it back to that night in the woods. Rewind it back before any of this happened, before Scot got bit, before past!Stiles got the idea to go sneaking off corpse-hunting, before…

_Before_.

But he can’t. Instead, he got to open the door to incessant knocking from… two werewolves.

Great.

“We want to join your pack,” Erica said, cutting to the chase.

“I’m sorry, what?” Stiles stared from the doorway.

“Your pack,” Erica enunciated clearly. “We want to join it.”

“You can’t… That’s not… _you can’t_!” Stiles said again. “You have Derek! An actual _Alpha_! Scott and I aren’t even really a pack! I’m _human_!”

“Derek isn’t cutting it,” Erica hissed. Boyd laid a settling hand on her shoulder, one she allowed and —huh, Stiles hadn’t see that coming. 

It was cute, don’t get him wrong. He just hadn’t see someone as feisty and rambunctious as wolf!Erica settling in with someone as calm and quiet as Boyd.

Maybe that thing about opposites attracting isn’t flat-out bull…

“He taught us to control our instincts,” Boyd said quietly. “But his methods are… tenuous at best.”

Stiles was _really_ curious about what that meant.

“We got the basics, so we don’t need him anymore,” Erica stated hotly. “But we still need a _pack_. We thought about just… running off to find a new one, but… our families are here. Our _lives_ are _here_. We don’t to leave Beacon Hills.”

“There are two packs in Beacon Hills. Derek’s…” Boyd gave him a pointed look. “And yours.”

“So you’re just… what?” Stiles frowned. “Looking for some friends? A grounding force? All the wolfy-perks without the drama that comes with it?”

Boyd didn’t respond, but the look on Erica’s face said enough.

Stiles let out a slow breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I can’t say there won’t be training or fights. Because bad things happen in Beacon Hills and Scott and I… we’re not just going to sit around and let it happen. I won’t force you to fight, if you don’t want to, but we’re going to be in the thick of it. If you’re still okay with that…?”

“We are!” Erica cut in before he could finish.

Stiles dropped his hand to his side and pushed the door to his house open. “Then by all means, come on in. Scott’s in the living room. We’ve got Call of Duty up. I was getting some snacks from the kitchen.”

There was a beat of silence, of hesitation, like they hadn’t really thought he would gave. Then Erica’s face lit up.

“You’re _amazing_ , Stiles!” Erica attacked him in a firm hug that was just _this_ side of painful. “Thank you so much!”

Then she was off and darting into the living room, where no doubt Scott was lounging, perplexed look on his face. He had to have heard the whole thing, but Stiles hadn’t heard any complaints from him, so he figured it was okay. After all, it was _Derek_ Scott had a problem with.

Boyd just gave a nod and a rather gentle pat on the shoulder before passing silently by.

Stiles scratched the back of his head and wondered just when he had started collecting werewolves and why they seemed to like _him_. Then he closed the door and turned to the kitchen. Erica’s cheer rang out from the living room, all the way across the house.

If this was going to be a normal thing, he would need to buy more snacks.

_And_ figure out a way to explain it to his dad when he got home, if the look on the sheriff’s face is anything to go by.

“Stiles,” his dad called from the doorway. “Can I talk to you in the kitchen for a moment?”

“ _Ooooh_ , someone’s in _trouble_ ,” Erica sang around a mouthful of pizza Stiles had ordered. To her credit, the taunt only seemed _half_ mean-spirited.

“Shut up,” he hissed as he trudged his way to the door and let his dad lead them to the kitchen. This was _not_ going to be a fun conversation.

“Do you want to explain to me…” his father started quietly, voice despairing. “Why two teens listed as runaways are hanging out in our living room while their families worry over their safety for the tenth day in a row?”

Not fun.

“Um… They told me they had already gone home?” Stiles tried. To his defense, he didn’t actually know if they had gone home or not. They talked about staying in town because of their families, so it seemed like a good bet to hedge.

Or not, if the furious look on his father’s face was any indication.

“Stiles Stilinski, if you don’t explain yourself _right now_ , I can guarantee you won’t have any friend stepping foot in this house for the next month.” His dad paused. “And _you_ won’t be going to any friend’s house either! It’ll be here or school. Nowhere else.”

Stiles scrambled to find a good excuse, _any_ excuse that his dad might buy, because he couldn’t afford to be grounded for a month, not with Scott’s anchor missing and Erica and Boyd suddenly part of their not-a-pack pack, and…

_A flashback to that night, shredding papers as Matt watched on. His dad, handcuffed outside the jail cells. The deputies Stiles had grown up with, treated like family, **slaughtered.** Him, paralyzed on the ground, unable to do anything but **wait**._

He couldn’t give an excuse. He couldn’t feed his dad another lie, not when _knowing_ could mean the difference between life and death. (He couldn’t let his dad die. Not if he could prevent it.)

So he hung his head and called softly, “Scott, can you come here?”

“Scott?” His dad frowned, perplexed. “What about Scott? He’s way in the other room. You want me to call him in—?”

“What’s up?” Scott asked, popping up right when Stiles needed him. Because he _could_ hear Stiles, all the way from the living room. Because he had been listening, they _all_ probably were. They were trying to figure out what the damage was. (Stiles was still trying to figure it out himself.)

His dad looked even more confused. “How did you—?”

“Dad, Scott is a werewolf,” Stile said without preamble. The words shoved forward, like if he didn’t say them fast enough, he wouldn’t have the courage to. “So are Erica and Boyd.”

“Wha—? _Stiles_!” Scott hissed.

“I have to, Scott!” Stiles defended. “He has to know! If he doesn’t… if he doesn’t and Jackson comes looking for him or another rogue Alpha decides to set up shop and he doesn’t _know_ , he could—!”

His teeth click shut and his throat clamps tight at the thought.

Scott’s betrayed face morphs into one of understanding and empathy. Because his mom had been used that way —with Peter _and_ with Matt. If she had known, Scott could have warned her, could have kept her safe without making deals he didn’t want to cash in.

If it ever came to the sheriff… Stiles knew where his priorities would lie.

His dad waved a hand between them, brow furrowed. “I’m having trouble keeping up with you guys, so just… back up a second. You said that Scott is a… _werewolf_?”

“Yes sir.” Scott nodded.

Sheriff Stilinski looked between the two of them, obviously not believing a single word they were saying. “Is this some kind of new Game? Like that Assassin one you guys played in Middle school?”

“No, this is so very, _painfully_ true.” Stiles nodded to Scott, heading off any further arguments. “Scott, show him.”

Scott did, without hesitation.

In hind sight, they probably sure have made sure the Sheriff had locked up his gun for the night before having Scott morph into a hairy, eyebrow-less monster. Good thing his bullets weren’t coated in wolfsbane.

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t _hurt_!” Scott whined.

“Oh, lighten up. You already got shot once,” Stiles said. “And it wasn’t even in anything dangerous this time! All your organs are fine and none of your arteries got nicked!”

“You—! This—!” Sheriff Stilinski sputtered, still frozen with his back to the counter and gun out. His eyes narrowed at Stiles as he hissed. “ _This has happened before_!?”

“Back at the police station,” Stiles confirmed. “It’s how Scott’s Mom found out.”

“ _Melissa_ knows about this?!” His dad reared back in outrage. “You told her before _me_?”

“To be fair, we didn’t really _tell_ her.” Stiles winced. “Scott kind of got shot in front of her… then went wolfy when… the, uh… the lizard-Jackson hybrid tried to get at her.”

“Lizard-Jackson hybrid?” Wow, Stiles didn’t realized his dad’s voice could _go_ that high anymore. Seemed like a thing that stopped happening after puberty. “ _Jackson_ _Whittemore killed my deputies?”_

“Technically, it was Matt,” Stiles corrected, “since he was the kanima’s puppet master —oh, and ‘kanima’ is the name for the Lizard-Jackson hybrid and is a failed werewolf, but also Matt was turning into one at the end there, so maybe there’s more to it that we don’t know, which I’m not really surprised by since the Argents’ bestiary was more about killing things than learning about…?”

His dad held up a hand, prompting Stiles to pause in his long, meandering explanation. “Stop, stop, just… start from the beginning.”

So they did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or its characters, only the idea for this fic.
> 
> Jackson is still out there. Gerard is still alive (though not for long, if Stiles has anything to say about it.) And Stiles is, very subtly, getting shoved into the Alpha role. 
> 
> Also, Stiles gets his facts about the various versions of magic users from untrustworthy internet sites. So if there are inconsistencies, that's why.
> 
> On a side note, if you came for Scott-bashing, you won't find it here. I saw some comments like that and figured I'd give you all a head's up, so you knew to drop this series before we got too much further. Wouldn't want to waste your time, after all.
> 
> Any who, with that out of the way, please enjoy!

Stiles and Scott did most of the talking, with Erica or Boyd chiming in when they had an outsider’s perspective. The talk led to a few questions ( _“You mean Derek Hale, the one you were convinced was a serial killer?”)_ , a few revelations ( _“ That’s why you stole the prison transport? And kidnapped Jackson?”_), and a few outraged comments ( _“You went in with just a bat?!”_), but by the end of it, Stiles felt a lot better.

Oh, he was definitely still grounded, probably would be for a long time, but at least it was because of stuff he could agree was dumb. (He really needed to get a stronger weapon than just a wooden bat. Maybe a metal one? With some mountain ash inlaid on it?)

Despite that, Erica, Boyd and Scott were allowed into the house, since Stiles had made it very clear that he was pack and pack had to stick together… or the werewolves would lose their minds (case and point: Peter).

Since Melissa McCall was still taking in the revelations of her own, his dad had decided to start a small (very small) support group for parents who suddenly found their children to have supernatural traits. Stiles hoped that meant Melissa would stop ignoring Scott soon. His sad puppy look was starting to make Stiles tear-up. He couldn’t handle his best bro looking so down. And all that on top of Allison…

While the wrinkles were getting ironed out of their home situation, the supernatural front wasn’t completely silent.

Jackson was still _off_ for reasons Stiles couldn’t explain (if the master was killed, the kanima should be dead, right? So Jackson should be…), but knew they would have to deal with sooner or later.

Apparently Fate decided ‘sooner’, when Scott came racing over one day, wide-eyed and panicked about Gerard, Jackson’s apparent new ‘master’, holding Melissa hostage in order to blackmail Scott. When he heard all of this, Stiles didn’t hesitate to call the first McCall-Stilinski pack meeting.

After all, if you messed with a wolf, you dealt with the _pack_.

* * * * *

“I am _so_ glad you two are here,” Stiles said, non-sequitur as he dropped onto the couch. “Because now, we have an odd number of people. We can have an actual democratic vote for pack actions!”

“Uh, Stiles?” Erica waved a hand at the group. “There are four of us here.”

Stiles shook his head, dismissive. “Scott doesn’t count.”

“Hey!”

“Scott, buddy.” Stiles cocked his head to the side with a pointed look. “You followed me into the woods to find a dead body, even though you _knew_ it was a bad idea. I can talk you into anything. Your vote doesn’t count.”

Scott opened his mouth to protest, paused, and then nodded in agreement. “... Yeah, that’s fair.”

Boyd snorted.

“Anyway, today’s meeting agenda is killing Gerard Argent.” Stiles leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “All in favor?”

He raised his hand.

Erica did too.

“Why are we killing him?” Boyd asked. Ah, that was a good point. Stiles didn’t explain anything to them. Good to know Boyd was calm under pressure. And that Erica was always up for murder, no questions asked.

“He became the kanima’s new master, then used Jackson to hold Melissa, Scott’s mom, hostage in order to blackmail Scott into… playing spy?” Stiles frowned. “No, wait. That was last time. What does he want you to do this time?”

“He said he wants Derek and his pack. That he wants to take revenge for Kate, but…” Scott gave a morose sigh as he recounted. “He was lying. Peter was the one who killed Kate and then Derek killed _him_. Chris and Allison can attest to that. I think Gerard wants him for another reason… I think he wants Derek to give him the Bite.”

“The bite…” Stiles wrinkled his nose. “The one that Allison’s mom got? The one that she killed herself over?”

Scott looked even more disheartened. “He smelled sick to me, the last time we spoke. I think something’s killing him. Something the Bite could cure.”

“And so he can get Bit and live, but not his daughter-in-law. What a hypocrite,” Stiles grumbled to himself, ignoring the fact that _everyone_ else could hear him. “So we are killing Gerard because he endangered pack-adjacent Melissa McCall and is attempting to blackmail pack-mate Scott McCall into getting an Alpha to Bite him so that he can become a werewolf, despite it being against hunter code. All in favor?”

All hands went up.

“So glad Dad’s got a double shift today.” Stiles scratched a thumb over his forehead. “He would _not_ like the way this meeting is going.”

“You’re the one that wanted to get the hard stuff out of the way,” Scott reminded him.

“Yes, and I still do.” Stiles shook himself and leaned back. “Okay, possible murder methods?”

“Tear out his throat,” Erica suggested. “Too easy.”

“Too obvious,” Stiles discounted immediately. “Plus, he’s surrounded by other hunters and _Jackson_. You’d have to go through them first and by that time, Gerard might be long gone.”

Erica pouted and crossed her arms, leaning back into Boyd’s side. Boyd looked pensive before suggesting. “Would a bullet work?”

Stiles gave a hum of consideration. “It would have to be a very long-range shot. Most likely from a sniper rifle —something none of us have, nor the experience of which to use. I _might_ be able to sneak something from Dad’s SWAT lock up, but after the whole prison transport thing…”

Boyd gave a slow nod. “It would not be ideal.”

Stiles let out a mirthless laugh. “That would be putting it lightly.”

“What about poison?”

Stiles looked down at Scott, who stared at the ground between his feet with a furrowed brow. “Care to elaborate?”

“It’s something Peter told us when he bit Lydia, right?” Scott ran a hand through his hair. “The Bite doesn’t always take. On some individuals, it’ll complete the transformation, but on others it could kill them.”

“Or in Jackson’s case, turn them into lizard people.” Stiles nodded.

“So, I’m thinking, Gerard wouldn’t go through with this without _knowing_ that he would be okay, right? He’s probably got some way of knowing whether he’ll make it or not. He’s confident enough in those odds to take the chance and deal with the consequences.” Scott looked up. “What if we messed up those odds?”

“Scott, buddy.” Stiles shook his head. “I’m trying to follow how you went from ‘poison’ to ‘Bite-rejection’, but you’re going to have to connect the dots for me, because my ADD ass is not getting there.”

“Mountain ash,” Scott said. “It repels the supernatural, right? And the Bite is supernatural. So if we can get Gerard to ingest Mountain Ash…”

“Then the Bite would be rejected!” Stiles lit up at the realization. “Scottie-boy, you’re a _genius_!”

Scott ducked his head bashfully.

“But _how_ do we get him to eat it?” Erica asked. “I’m pretty sure he won’t do it on his own.”

“He’s got a pill case,” Scott said after a moment of thought. “He’s dropped it a few times, so I’ve seen it and the label on it.”

“If you’ve got the prescription, I can look it up and fabricate a good replica,” Stiles offered. “Or we can nick some empty capsules from the hospital. I don’t think your mom would mind.”

At the mention, Scott’s face twisted, but Stiles didn’t let him dwell too long.

“All in favor of switching out Jerkface McGee’s pills with Mountain Ash phonies?” He looked around the group.

“Aye!” All four hands raised.

“Motion passed.” Stiles let out a slow breath, feeling a lot better now that they had a plan. “I’ll talk to Deaton for you, Scott. Make it seem like I have some more questions about this Spark stuff.”

Erica wrinkled her nose. “This… _what_ stuff?”

“He’s talking about magic,” Scott explained. “He started learning it back when we didn’t know who the kanima was. Deaton said something like ‘magic is belief’ and ‘you need to be the spark’ and Stiles…”

“I took it to be a reference to what I am.” Stiles held his arms out. “No letter from Hogwarts for me! I’m a _Spark_.”

“Deaton said there’s no such thing as Sparks!” Scott argued.

“ _Deaton said_ , that Druids worry about the balance of the universe. Wizards use wands and spells. Warlocks use staves and grimoires. Witches use rituals and nature spirits. Alchemists use chemistry and mages use magic circles,” Stiles listed off on his fingers. “So far, I care about my pack more than the balance of anything. I can use magic without a medium, and runes can either follow ancient rules or be completely made up. Chemistry is only useful a-la Molotov cocktails and I cannot draw a perfect circle to save my life, but mountain ash seems able to do it anyway. Since I don’t follow any of those stereotypes, I have decided to be a Spark.”

“And a Spark is…?”

“Whatever the hell I want it to be.” Stiles grinned savagely. “That’s the beauty of not playing by other people’s rules.”

Boyd and Erica stared as Scott just shook his head. Then Erica gave a shrug and stretched out against Boyd’s side. “Sounds good to me.”

“Wasn’t asking for permission, but glad to have it anyway. So!” Stiles stood and clapped his hands. “Who’s ready for lunch?”

It was only the first pack meeting, but Stiles had plans for future ones. Good plans. Plans that involved tackling the hard topics (voting to murder people, checking out the latest supernatural threat, training in various fields of combat) first, then following up with a meal and some pack bonding, most likely in the form of binge-watching or videogames.

Since it was the weekend, he’d had time to do a little prep work first, which meant it took little time to fry up the fajitas he had planned and get everyone set up on their first round of lunch. (First because, as he had learned with Scott, being a werewolf did _not_ diminish appetite. It made it worse.)

He had just settled himself back down in his spot next to his bro when some tension he hadn’t noticed before seemed to _snap_.

“Ugh, I can’t take it anymore!” Erica let out a frustrated growl and leapt up from her spot on the couch. Scott pressed into Stiles’ side as the two watched the girl stalked over to stand in front of Stiles and glare. 

“Whoa now!” Stiles held up one hand in surrender. The other guarded his fajita. “I don’t know what you’re angry about, but you know you and Boyd are allowed to bring up whatever you want with me and Scott. You’re pack members too.”

Erica’s face darkened.

Stiles quickly back-pedaled, trying to figure out where he went wrong. “And if we can’t fix it… well, you are also free to go. We aren’t going to force you to stay.”

“But you _aren’t_ fixing it!” Erica hissed. “You aren’t even _trying_!”

Stiles’ gaze flicked to Scott, then back to Erica. “Maybe because… I don’t know what ‘it’ is?”

Erica let out a huff and crossed her arms. She jerked her chin towards Scott. “You always hangout with him. Every time we meet up. Always!”

“Um… because Scott is my bro?” Stiles frowned, still not seeing the point she was trying to make. From his perspective, whenever Boyd and Erica had come over, he had spent plenty of time with all of them. He and Scott never just… went off without them, not since that first night when they had to talk to his dad in the kitchen.

Was she talking about when they were at school? He couldn’t help that. They were still playing hooky, and refusing to show up to class. (Something he really needed to talk to them about because they were missing out on their education. Also, had they gone back to their families’ houses yet? Where were they staying in the mean time?)

Erica’s pointed grumble pulled him back from his wandering thoughts. “You never hang out with Boyd and me.”

“You never asked?” Stiles looked over to where Erica had left the other teen was still sitting on the couch. Boyd’s face was like a smooth mask. “And, like, I’m not entirely sure what you guys are, so I don’t want to go stepping on any toes, you know? So I just thought I would…?”

“Give us space?” Erica snapped, waspishly. 

“Uh… yes?”

“Well, _don’t_ ,” Erica hissed. “We came here because we wanted to be treated like equals. So if you hang out with Scott, you _better_ hang out with us.”

“Okay! I got it!” Stiles raised his hands in surrender. “I promise to do so in the future.”

“Good,” Erica huffed. Then she remained where she was standing for several seconds.

“Wait… you mean, like, right now?” Stiles’ eyebrows rose.

How was that going to work? Was he supposed to tell Scott to leave? But Scott was his bro! He had squatting rights! Plus, he _just_ got his food. Scott wasn’t going to move for the next half hour, unless it was to grab seconds… and thirds.

Erica rolled her eyes and yanked Stiles to his feet.

He flailed as she dragged him over (nearly causing him to lose his fajita entirely) and shoved him down on the couch. Then, instead of going to Boyd’s side, like Stiles thought she would, Erica dropped herself onto his other side as Boyd stiffly leaned into his shoulder. In this position, the first thing that came to Stiles’ mind wasn’t ‘hanging out’ so much as… _cuddling_.

As the thought registered in his brain, Erica and Boyd seemed to lose a tension Stiles didn’t even notice until it was gone. They were weirdly in sync, like it was some kind of instinct, some kind of…

“…This is another werewolf thing I don’t know about, isn’t it?” Stiles shot Scott a very pointed look.

Scott looked just as confused, before realization dawned and his face smoothed out.

“Scent marking and skin-ship,” he explained. “It’s a big thing within packs. It tells who belongs to who and who we can rely on for support and backup. At least… that’s what Deaton told me.”

Stiles let out a frustrated growl as he dropped his head onto the back of the couch. “Guys, you have to tell me these things! I’m not a ‘wolf, so I just don’t pick up on what I’m supposed to do!”

Erica flinched at the sound, so Stiles quickly pulled a hand up to run his fingers (carefully so as not to tangle) through the ends of her hair and allowed her to burrow under his arm. Though Boyd remained stoic, Stiles wormed a hand out to pat the Beta’s knee and, subsequently, took more of the teen’s weight when Boyd took it as the go-ahead Stiles didn’t know he was waiting for.

Now thoroughly trapped, Stiles sent Scott a plaintive look, only to see Scott watching them, longing painfully obvious on his face.

“Get over here, Scott.” Stiles rolled his eyes and wiggled his toes. “Still got room for one more.”

Scott didn’t even hesitate before he was on the ground, back to Stiles’ shins and hands playing with the hems of Boyd’s jeans as he spoke to Erica. “Told you, you should have just asked him from the beginning.”

“Shut up, McCall.” Came the grumbled response.

Now that the wolves of the pack were adequately placated, that only left one question for Stiles.

How was he going to eat his fajita like this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're starting to diverge more from canon. I think the next chapter will be the last one where we really stick to the canon events as they were. We'll still see Alpha pack, Darach, and Nogitsune!Stiles, but more with my own spin on it.
> 
> Two chapters down, one to go! See you all next week!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or its characters, only the idea for this fic.
> 
> PS - Hey! So, this is the last chapter for part 1. I'm hoping to finish up Part 2 in the next few weeks, but time seems to be a relative concept, so we'll see. I have about half of it written, but it's going to require some major editing, just from what I've seen so far. I'm also going to have to go back and finish watching season 3(and 4 pt. 1?) to make sure I've got my facts right. So here's to hoping!
> 
> Anyway, on to the last chapter!

After that first pack meeting, Stiles realized that his expertise in wolf body language was _far past lacking_ for being the only human in the pack. So he borrowed a few more books from Deaton and ended up down a few rabbit holes on Wikipedia as he fully immersed himself in research.

He was so immersed that he didn’t realize he hadn’t seen Erica or Boyd in a few days until his _dad_ noted their absence.

“They didn’t run away again did they?” Sheriff Stilinski asked.

“No.” Stiles frowned and tried to count back the days since he’d last seen them. It wasn’t too many, but it was certainly noticeable. “They didn’t mention anything about it. Not about leaving or going back to Derek or anything. Have you talked with their folks?”

“They haven’t seen them since they first put out the missing notice.” Sheriff frowned at Stiles. “I thought you said they went home?”

“I thought they did,” Stiles replied quietly. The tense ball of unease that was his constant companion since Scott’s turning, wound tighter. It wasn’t like Erica and Boyd constantly texted him or anything, but they caught up with him and Scott right after school let out and before lacrosse practice. However, recently, they hadn’t showed up. They hadn’t visited his house either, like their every-other-day schedule insisted.

Something was wrong. He just didn’t know _what_.

“I didn’t smell them on campus or in the parking lot. We could try tracking them?” Scott suggested when Stiles brought it up with him after another night with no news. “After the game today?”

“I’d rather check after school.” Stiles couldn’t help scanning the hallway, nerves piqued. Silence met his request. “Look, Scott, I know that you’re super happy to be playing this year and be co-captains with Jackson, but—!”

“Jackson is going to be there tonight,” Scott said quietly.

Stiles froze, then turned his full attention onto Scott. “…What?”

“Isaac told me that Jackson has been showing up to practice,” Scott continued. “Coach has him set up to play tonight. If I’m not there…”

“He could kill someone,” Stiles finished as an icy chill invaded his stomach. “Gerard could order him to do it, right there in front of everyone.”

Scott’s eyes went wide and sad.

Stiles’ lips twisted in indecision before relenting. “Fine. We’ll wait until after the game, but then we _need_ to find them, okay? Something’s wrong. They’ve never been gone this long, not since they joined our pack.”

Scott reached out to drop a steadying hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find them. After the game.”

Waiting until after the game turned out to be both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing because Stiles actually got to play! And make a score! It was his moment of truth! His time to shine! His five minutes in the spotlight!

A curse because it _literally_ lasted five minutes. A curse, because _Jackson_ was the one Gerard told Jackson to kill. A curse, because, in the following chaos of a collapsed Jackson Whittemore, _Stiles_ was kidnapped by Gerard, as a means of _making a point_.

He didn’t know if the point was to his dad or to Scott or maybe Derek, but whatever it was, it was a stroke of luck, as much as it didn’t look like it at first.

Yes, Stiles got beaten by a man, like, ten times his age, but also, _he found Erica and Boyd_. They were trapped down in the hunter’s basement, strung up on electrical wires with tape covering their mouths in the most cliché move a kidnapper could possibly pull. He didn’t know how long they had been down there, but he knew he had to get them out.

It was laughably easy to free them too. In fact, Chris didn’t bother stopping them. His dear old dad probably wouldn’t like that, but Stiles didn’t care. At least _one_ of them wasn’t bat-shit insane.

As they snuck out the back, Stiles whispered to the two Betas. “So how did they get you? Scott and I couldn’t find anything on the school grounds and I think I would have heard if it happened right outside my house.”

“We were in the woods,” Boyd said. “We heard howls. We thought it was another pack.”

“And so you, what? Ran off after them? Were you planning on joining them? I won’t fault you for it, especially with everything going on in Beacon Hills right now.” Stiles looked back, only to catch twin looks of chagrin. “Oh no. Don’t tell me. You were trying to _chase them off_?”

“Beacon Hills is _our_ territory!” Erica argued, voice barely low enough not to catch the hunter’s attention. “It’s bad enough we have to share it with Derek. We weren’t going to let a _third_ pack move in!”

“Idiots!” Stiles hissed. “Both of you are idiots!”

“Hey!”

“No arguing! Not right now!” Stiles growled. “We’ll talk about it once we get home.”

Both Betas fell silent, eerily so, as they continued to tromp through the woods. Well, Stiles tromped. They seemed to glide without making a single noise —freaking werewolf genetics.

They hit the hospital first, since it was on the way and Stiles was a little worried he might have a concussion or possibly internal bleeding from the totally-uncalled-for beating Gerard had bestowed upon him. The Betas weren’t looking much better, with little scorch marks where the electrical wires had pierced and surged.

They definitely needed Melissa to take a look at them —Melissa and no one else.

Luck was still on Stiles’ side because Melissa was free and _his dad was there_ and a situation that should have split the party three ways ended up with all of them in one room. Melissa checked him over while his dad took Erica’s statement, then they played musical chairs until everyone had got a turn on the exam table and in the interrogation seat, and then they were free to go.

Melissa didn’t like the look of the burns Erica and Boyd had, but their supernatural healing would smooth it out before any burn cream or surgery was required. A fact Stiles argued vehemently, but quietly, until she was forced to give in by Erica and Boyd simply walking out the front door. Stiles understood her worry, he did, but also…

He was really tired. He just wanted to go home.

His dad wanted to press charges against Gerard, but that was a one-way ticket to the graveyard, the way Gerard was acting. Stiles couldn’t let him do it. Not yet.

(Maybe later. Maybe, after Scott’s plan came to fruition and Gerard’s body rejected the Bite, they wouldn’t need to press charges. Maybe there wouldn’t be a Gerard.)

(It was a nice thought.)

So they ended up at Stiles’ house. His dad retreated to his study, needing a breather from all the supernatural things that night, while Stiles lead the Betas up to his room. He held the door open and let them pass before him, then followed.

Once in the room, he tweaked their ears. Boyd tripped. Erica let out a squeaked yelp shockingly reminiscent of a Chihuahua. From how red her face got afterwards, she knew just how embarrassing that was.

(Huh, those training manuals were right. Dogs really didn’t like their ears messed with. Then again, Stiles was pretty sure it hurt on humans too, probably one of the reasons Jackson liked to do it to him during middle school. Of course, all it had taken was one time of Stiles doing it back for the jerk to stop, but still…)

“What was that for?” Boyd growled, rubbing at his ear.

“That was for the fact that the two of you _ran off to fight another pack **without any backup**_!” Stiles threw his hands in the air. “The least you could have done was _call_ me or Scott, to at least give us a heads-up so we know to start looking if you go missing. But _nooo_! You decided that you’re a couple of big shots, capable of taking down a pack the size of which you don’t know!”

“We’re werewolves.” Erica’s lip curled up to show teeth.

“ _And so is the other pack!_ ” Stiles’ voice climbed a decibel higher. “Which kind of cancels out the whole _werewolf_ strength and speed advantage, in case you didn’t know! And if you ended up killed, Scott and I would never know! We’d never be able to find you! Another pack would make sure of it! What would we do then? What would your _families_ do then?”

Both Erica and Boyd looked down at that, still rubbing at their ears. Their defiance had dulled into guilt now. The looks on their faces… they were totally learning the puppy-dog eyes from Scott, weren’t they?

Stiles dragged a hand down his face and let out a long-suffering sigh. “I appreciate the fact that you want to protect our territory. I also appreciate that you took initiative. But I would appreciate it _more_ if you also thought to keep _yourselves_ safe.”

The last comment had them both looking up, with wide-eyed astonishment.

“Look, I know we haven’t known each other long, but I’m not _that much_ of a jerk.” Stiles put either hand on their shoulders. “I want you guys to be safe. That, above defending Beacon Hills, is _my_ priority.”

The two of them stared for a long moment, Boyd straight-faced, Erica with squinty eyes and a quivering lip and—!

Aw, no, they were _crying_ now! What was he supposed to do? Hugs? Hugs worked, right? He knew girls appreciated it, but would Boyd too? Or would he like a manly clap on the back better?

As he awkwardly tried to comfort them, the doorbell echoed through the house. He figured he could let Dad answer the door as Stiles was otherwise occupied with his pack duties (which involved both comforting and being comforted. Had he mentioned before how nice the pain-drain stuff is? Because it’s _nice_.)

Whoever was on the other side of the door apparently had other plans, as thumping of feet on the stairs could attest.

“Stiles!” his dad called. “Lydia is here to see you!”

“Lydia?” Stiles choked and pulled back. She was going to see him? Like _this_? He was still in his lacrosse uniform, mucked up with mud, grass, and blood in equal measure. His face was sure to be a mess, what with the cuts and bruises. He might be able to cover the scraps with Band-Aids, but the discoloration… “Erica, do you have any cover-up?”

“Not enough make-up in the world to hide that bruise,” she said, a weak smile on her face.

“Great. Just great.” Stiles let out a long sigh, then, at the sound of his door swinging open, turned to greet Lydia with the warmest smile he could manage at the moment. “Heeey! Lydiaaaaa! What’s up?”

So, apparently, Jackson had _died_ and Lydia wanted to see the body. A frantic call from Scott explained that no, Jackson was _not_ dead, he was metamorphosing and email Peter (who was apparently _alive_?!) sent with the animation of the Kanima Upgrade was definitely going to haunt Stiles’ dreams for the next _forever_.

But it was okay, because there was a way to _save_ him, they just needed to get Lydia to wherever Derek and Peter (seriously, _alive_?!) were meeting Isaac and Scott so that she could call his name like some weird pro-bono psychic.

And oh, they had less than twenty minutes until this all went to shit.

Great, perfect. Story of Stiles’ life.

(He wished it wasn’t Lydia who had to do this. He wished it was _anyone else_ , but he had been in her place once. He had seen his loved one waste away before him, helpless to aid them in anyway. If he had the chance to go back, to be able to _stop it_ , he would, in a heartbeat. Even if it meant giving up his life to do so.

He couldn’t take that choice away from her.)

(Still… did it _have_ to be Jackson?)

“Yeah, so, we gotta go,” Stiles said as he shoved his phone into his pocket. “Like now.”

“What?” Lydia blinked in shock, then trailed behind as he grabbed a jacket, his keys and a bat. “Stiles, what’s going on?”

“Your ex is about to pull a respawn, but instead of being human, he’s gonna be more like the stuff of nightmares. Ever read anything of Lovecraft’s?” Stiles didn’t even wait for her to answer. He remembered the types of books she liked to read in fifth grade. He hadn’t been able to look at calamari the same since. “Yeah, I think that’s enough description for you.”

“Well…” Lydia hesitated at the top of the stairs. “Is there a way to stop it?”

“Yes, but it involves you being there before he goes full monster, so really, we need to go. Like, _now_.” Stiles waved to the Betas. “Everyone in the jeep! Or run, if you think that’ll be faster. I will admit, there’s isn’t a lot of leg room to go around.” He didn’t even pause at the front door as he threw a yell over his shoulder. “ _Dad_! _We’re going to go stop an eldritch abomination from being born_!”

_“Are you bringing more than a bat?!”_

_“I’ve got a packet of Mountain Ash with me and Erica and Boyd!”_ Stiles yelled back. After a pause, he added. _“And Lydia!”_

_“Okay! Call me if you need backup! Or anyone in the precinct! We can claim any weird things they see on a gas leak!”_

_“Will do!”_

Honestly, telling his dad about the supernatural was the best idea he’d ever had.

The fight was intense, but the outcome couldn’t have been better.

Gerard’s body rejected the bite, just like Scott and he had planned. Derek looked so _betrayed_ when Scott had forced him to Bite Gerard and —oh, right. Stiles _knew_ they had forgotten something.

He… really should have told Derek about the plan before they went ahead and did it. That, uh… might have made the whole thing sting a little less.

(Really though, did Scott have to be so melodramatic? “You may be an Alpha, but you’re not mine.” Scott, buddy. You don’t have an Alpha.)

Jackson reacted to Lydia calling his name (something that caused a sting in Stiles’ heart, which he graciously ignored) and held still long enough for Peter and Derek to kill him. Which, apparently, didn’t mean he _actually_ died, but shed his skin like some kind of snake and then came out as a full-fledged werewolf.

Honestly, Stiles is kind of happy that he survived. He’d feel bad about hitting him with his jeep otherwise.

(He… maybe could have done without the ‘I love you’s. He joked with Scott afterwards, about his ten-year plan stretching to fifteen, but if Lydia could love Jackson in all his scaly murder-gremlin glory, Stiles didn’t think he had a chance of breaking that up.)

Allison broke up with Scott (“for now”, yeah, sure Scott. You remember that you helped kill her grandfather, right?) and ended up going abroad to visit family and get her head on straight. Scott is hopeful for her return. Allison is… less so.

Still, despite a few unexpected twists and turns, they made it through the whole kanima thing with everyone more or less intact. Pack lines were re-drawn, friendships strengthened and family bonds endured.

Now, Stiles just needed to sit back, relax, and enjoy the fact that the supernatural murders were over.

Their not-a-pack pack had survived and managed to live another day. And Stiles really couldn’t ask for more than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I think that's a good place to stop for now. After this, we'll see some major changes, one of which: Jackson is going to stay in Beacon Hills and not run off to London, because I am not planning on doing any spin-offs.
> 
> There will be other changes coming, but I don't want to ruin any surprises for you guys, so let's leave it at that, okay?
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me these past few weeks! I hope you look forward to the next part in the series!

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to say 'Good Job!' or 'Update Soon!' or 'Longer please!', please just leave a Kudo. I appreciate every single one I get. :)
> 
> If you have some critiques or questions, please leave a comment below. I'm always looking to improve my skills, so any little bit helps.
> 
> If you want to leave a comment, but don't know what to say or what I'm looking for in comments, I've put a short outline of what I usually leave on stories in my profile. To find it, click on my pseudonym and then on the Profile tab. It is _not_ a requirement, just a sounding board if you're looking for ideas.


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